


Ninety-Five Stitches

by Raven2547



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Captivity, DNA issues, Gen, Hurt!Jim, Kink Meme, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mission Fic, References to Torture, X-Men References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 06:16:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven2547/pseuds/Raven2547
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for prompt on the Kink Meme.</p><p>Jim and McCoy have been captured and are attempting to escape an alien complex. Jim has to use his x-gene to help them get out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ninety-Five Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: http://strek-id-kink.livejournal.com/2836.html?thread=920084#t920084

His fingernails are bleeding. 

Its a stupid thing to focus on, especially after running through two miles of underground base. They aren't even out yet, but Jim's looking like he's run a marathon and his fingernails are bleeding. 

As a doctor with degrees in xenobiology, he's perfectly aware of all the quirks of a genetically enhanced human that's had the x-gene implanted. The gene manifests in singularly unique ways, never the same twice as far as history shows. Jim isn't an oddity there. He's one of a kind, just like the rest of them. The irony is not missing on McCoy. 

Leonard runs his hands up along Jim's pulsating arm, checking the racing pulse and feeling the feverish, blood hot skin beneath his own fingers. Bleeding probably isn't the right word for Jim's cuticles and nails, but gushing seems to be too harsh. Running or flowing, sluggishly but steadily pumping are better. All Leonard knows is that Jim's blood is dripping constantly on the old, alien metal floor. 

Jim didn't have to pull out his little trick just yet. Lots of prisoners stayed with their captors longer than fifty-three hours. This is what Bones kept telling himself so he could yell at Jim later, when they didn't have alien neanderthals with big spears and messy guns running after them.

"It'll be fine, Bones. Leave it be for right now," Jim panted into his ear, craning his head around to look down the dreaded hallway. They were staying put in a small alcove, looking for a 'you are here' map, ideally. 

"The only reason I'm doing just that is because the damn asshats took my medkit. You're going to have to wait until we get back to the ship for me to fix this mess up."

"I've dealt with it before for longer, Bones. If I get a few more minutes without having to shoot, I'll stop bleedin--" 

Rapid gibberish filtered down the hall, and both the men quickly quieted. A small squad of the brutish, mothy looking aliens marched down the hall, holding guns and spears randomly throughout themselves.

Bones heard Kirk swear and then they were cramming themselves farther into the small enclosure they were in, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. It was a good thing, McCoy thought, that Jim's shirt was so covered in dirt, dust and dried blood that the gold was nearly indistinguishable. 

The group passed by them. Leonard felt Jim relax, the captain's back to his chest. Their luck, while not doing too good for them so far, seemed to be giving them a little benefit this time. 

And then Jim 'I am /not/ allergic to dust' Kirk sneezed. 

The aliens were shouting and Jim was shoving past Leonard, heaving his arm up to a ninety degree angle with his shoulder. A blue ball of energy was fast approaching fist sized, and once it reached the right mass Jim seemed to push it forward. It approached the aliens quicker than a bullet, and McCoy hastily grabbed Jim and shoved the idiot face first into the wall so he could sheild him from the impending explosion. 

It came, and rocked the foundation of the headquarters. Leonard looked up at the ceiling warily, /almost/ wishing he were in a shuttle craft instead of a mile underground. 

A small huff of air and a whimper alerted him to Jim's continued existence. With dread, Bones looked down and winced in sympathy. The veins of Jim's arm were pressed up against the skin, blue and bruised looking in contrast to the deep red of his forearm. Even without touching it, the doctor could tell it was pulsating underneath the tightly pulled skin. Jim was probably on the verge of separating bones or ligaments in his arm by now. 

After years of wondering what the hell Jim's 'power' was, Leonard wished he had never learned. It looked damn painful, and how any DNA code could think this was okay was clearly a mistake. A prenatal doctor on the x-gene host colony should have caught this destructive phenomenon, but Jim's impeccable knack at avoiding help had cost him that even before he was born. 

Jim suddenly stood up, knocking McCoy back a little bit and into the mostly destroyed hall. Luckily, the aliens had been going the opposite way he and Jim were headed. Their way out was still in sight. An access elevator should be around this area of the complex if Jim was as correct as he thought he was. 

Continuing on their way, Bones ignored the intense need to grab Jim and prevent him from hurting himself, but the man was already clutching his own forearm. He was staring at it as he walked, looking like he was trying to will it to stop hurting. The fingernails were gushing this time, no doubt about it. Bones only hoped they got to the elevator soon. 

A flight of stairs and five or six halls later, McCoy's communicator crackled to life. Staticky, he could only hear partial consonants or vowels of somebody speaking. They were getting closer to the surface. 

Finally, the small service elevator peeked into existence at the end of the tunnel. In spite of their weariness and Jim's weakness, both of them sprinted toward it. Their heavy footsteps echoed on the metal floor like alarms in McCoy's ears and he distantly heard the alien shouts behind them again, no doubt alerted to the explosion and their /ridiculously/ loud stomping. 

Bones jammed his finger into the call button, listened to the hum of a lowering cable, and practically ripped the wire mesh door open. He shoved an unresistent Jim in and then barreled in behind him, trying to jam the door shut. The aliens were rounding the corner, and Leonard thought he could get the difficult door to shut if he just had a few. More. Seconds. 

Jim beat him to it, pushing his arm back up and releasing one last burst of energy that shot toward the large group of brutes faster than the others. The push that required it blasted Jim off his feet and he slammed into the back wall of the elevator. Bones finally got the damned door to shut and the box slowly ascended toward daylight. 

Thinking fast, the doctor knelt next to his friend and grabbed his arm, gently but firmly taking the kid's other hand off of the wrist. Even in the dim lighting, The sheer amount of blood glimmered in the wavering light. Jim's entire arm, from the center of the palm downward, was covered in blood. It looked like his limb had only had a seam, and straight on down that seam had busted open and it seemed like gallons of blood were coming out of Jim.

When they finally came out of the base, Bones cursed and helped Jim drag himself out of it. He palmed his communicator, which had finally decided to come back to life fully, and screamed into it for them to beam them the fuck out of there. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Leonard stood over Jim's bed as he finally woke up, two days after they were rescued. Eighty-seven stitches were needed to seal Jim's arm up, and eight more for his palm. The mark, after being treated with a mass dermal regenerator, had faded to a smooth, stark red line on his arm. It likely would never completely disappear, but the only thing McCoy could think when he looked at it was that now his left arm had a perfect match.

Jim's eyes fluttered open and he groaned low in his throat, lifting his hands to rub at his face. Obviously, his eyes caught on the dark scar on his arm and he winced, poking at it like a little boy and scabs before Bones smacked his hand down with a scowl. 

"Infant. Do you know how idiotic that was?" The doctor started, feeling the last of his worry disappear when Jim grinned sheepishly at him and leaned back on his bed to deal with the rant.

**Author's Note:**

> First AO3 post ever :o very exciting.


End file.
